Gaining the Tower

They moved quickly from the deep shadows and despair of the dungeons into a small courtyard full of broken stone. Belegos led them out, moving with almost indecent haste to escape what they had done, had been forced to do. As he reached the middle of the courtyard he seemed to realise his mistake, as his sharp eyes scanned the empty windows and rough holes that had been delved into the high walls surrounding the open space. Nothing stirred in the silence, but the scout did not let his guard down. The others spread out behind him, picking their way carefully across the maze of shattered rock, careful to make as little sound as possible. Estarfin's footfalls were heavier than the others, but even he would be able to pass unnoticed. Belegos moved his head quickly, staring out of the archway in front of them, and froze mid-step. Signalling hastily to the others, he moved swiftly into the darker shadows beside the archway ahead of them. The others followed suit, trusting that their guide had seen or heard something they had not. They stood in silence, tense as whatever unknown threat drew nearer to them. Moments later, flickering shadows could be seen spilling through the stone arch, torch-light could be seen coming towards them, carried by what looked like men. Belegos stood in the shadows of the entrance to the courtyard, still, silent, watchful. There were two men approaching, dragging a slender figure behind them that was bound in chains. Clearly another prisoner for the dungeon, that terrible place of hopeless despair that the company had passed through.
Belegos slid a curved knife out from within his robes, careful not to let the blade reflect the torchlight of the men back at them. He looked around, and saw Elloen hiding in the shadows opposite him. Belegos signalled him to come closer, to stand upon the other side of the entrance. Elloen did so, understanding the scout’s meaning.
“Another one for the dungeons, then. I don’t know why they bother, they never question them. Why not just kill them, and have done?” The man spoke in a harsh tongue, but the elves of Vanimar understood him clearly enough.
“Who cares? We will do what we are ordered, unless you want to stay there yourself!” The other man chuckled as he spoke, and tugged upon the chains of the prisoner a little harder, causing the figure to crash to the ground.
As the men turned in annoyance, Belegos moved. Grabbing the man nearest to him, he ripped the dagger across his exposed throat, dark blood spraying into the dark air as the man tried to scream in pain through his ruined throat, emitting nothing but an awful gargling rasp. Belegos seized a handful of his hair and pulled him backwards into the darkness, where the noise ceased suddenly. As the remaining man turned in surprise, a look of shock crossed his face as Elloen moved from the darkness, his elegant features obvious despite the ugly rags that he wore. He crossed the distance between them in two silent steps, his sword shining like fire in the light of the torch. He plunged it into the man’s chest with both hands, and then tried to pull him back into the shadows as Belegos had done. The man struggled desperately despite the terrible wound that had been done to him, fighting to survive and to escape from the bright eyes of the Elf. The man overbalanced and fell to the floor, pulling Elloen with him as he tried to keep the man silent so as not to alert anyone to their presence. Elloen was as strong as any slender Elven Lord, but the man was broader, more powerful. The man reached out for the fallen torch, fingers brushing the handle. Parnard emerged from the darkness, kicking the torch skittering away as he drew his own sword and began to plunge it into the chest and stomach of the man, until the struggling finally stopped. Smiling weakly, Parnard held out a hand and helped Elloen to his feet, and then looked around at the others. Danel had moved out of the shadows with a small dagger clasped in her hand, looking shocked but ready to act. Belegos was staring out of the gateway at Estarfin who was dragging the limp form of the prisoner behind him with one hand, holding his great spear with the other. He tossed the body in the shadows with the two dead men and then turned to face the others, a blank expression upon his face. No-one moved or spoke for several long moments, and then Danel broke the silence, extinguishing the burning torch as she spoke softly.
"We cannot tarry here, they may be missed, and soon. We must continue our search."
Belegos roused himself and stared into the darkness outside of the entranceway. "We must seek for it within the tower."
All eyes turned to the black tower before them; slab-sided, rising inexorably to a high peak crowned with spikes of blackened stone. Windows were cut into the dark walls, spilling forth the sickly green light that they had seen from afar. Brave though they were, all of their hearts sank a little at the sight of the dark tower.
"It is not within the deepest dungeon, so I do not think that they would to choose to keep it anywhere but the tallest tower." Danel spoke with quiet resignation within her voice. "We must make for the tower, and trust to our disguises to fool the yrch."
 
With that Belegos turned away from them and began to walk through the archway, into the courtyard beyond, and with a moment of hesitation, the others followed. Huge bronze braziers were spaced around the edge, fashioned into screaming faces or the shapes of terrible beasts. They stood against the tall dark walls like guardians. They cast flickering shadows across the grey stones that the company walked upon, causing the twisted shapes of yrch, trolls and wicked men to appear and vanish before their eyes. There was no speech amongst the Elves as they passed across the courtyard, although the footfalls of Estarfin echoed terribly in the empty courtyard, for under his robe he was carrying a great weight of armour. A growing sense of dread fell upon the company. The echoes and the shadows turned into enemies in their thoughts. Anticipation built within them all, even within Belegos and Estarfin, ancient warriors though they were. When they had crossed halfway through the courtyard, they saw movement ahead that was not simply the flickering shadows of the braziers.
"Pull your hoods low." Belegos hissed at them, as he continued to walk slowly towards the figure.
 
As they approached the shadowy figure, they saw, to their disgust, that it was an orc. Every member of the company tensed slightly, hatred written upon all of their faces. The orc looked at them briefly, clearly uninterested in the group of five wandering servants in their filthy crimson robes. Turning away from them, it fell suddenly, the white feathers of the arrow flashing as they reflected the firelight. All eyes turned to Belegos, who was hurriedly slinging his bow upon his back again and covering it with the dark red robe. He shrugged slightly, turning to walk away. Danel grabbed his arm in a tight grip, and spoke in barely a whisper.
"Remember that we cannot afford to be discovered Belegos. Control your anger at these things." Belegos tried to pull his arm from her grip, but she would not relent. The anger upon his face seemed to fade slightly, and he nodded at her.
"There will be yrch enough within the tower Belegos" whispered Estarfin. "Do not think that we will not cut a deep wound into the filth that resides here."
 
The company crossed two more courtyards in their approach to the tower, seeing small groups of orcs, or of men, but only ever at a distance. The fortress appeared almost deserted; after their months of worry at what would face them here it seemed as though their worry had been misplaced. Parnard's plan was proving more successful than any could have hoped, and their sense of foreboding diminished slightly. If it had not been for the oppressive tower looming above them, their spirits might have been lifted at the ease of their approach. They passed through another dark stone archway, seeing that they had come finally to the entrance of the dreadful tower. A narrow stone stair wound from the courtyard to a great set of dark doors, lit with burning torches and patrolled by orcs. There was no approach that they could take that would not involve crossing the open courtyard, and would their disguises hold? Danel was first to step from the shadow of the arch into the dim light that flowed from the tower, unwilling to delay the inevitable. When she had taken a few paces, the others began following her towards the tower. As they drew nearer the steps, the orcs began watching them, clearly wondering why the filthy servants were approaching the entrance to the tower. One of them called out in a foul tongue that the Elves did not understand, but the meaning was clear. It was a challenge, a command to stop or to speak their business. The cry was repeated by the others, and the Elves came to a halt at the base of the stairs as more orcs started to emerge from the shadows that surrounded the courtyard.
"What do we do?" whispered Parnard, his voice full of tension.
"We cannot fight here; they will surround us and cut us down before we get inside. We must push on." Belegos replied, placing a foot upon the stairs.
 
As he placed his foot upon that black stone, a dull ringing sounded from the tower, an alarm of some sort it seemed. The dull clangs rang through the air, as iron-shod footfalls could be heard echoing throughout the courtyard. The Elves froze, knowing that they had finally been discovered, and looking about themselves as the twisted figures of orcs moved towards them from the shadows.
 
"We are discovered! Into them!" Estarfin shouted as he tore the filthy cloak from himself, pulling the shield and spear from his back, and charged past Belegos, almost knocking him over. He ran headlong up the narrow stairs into the group of shocked orcs that had been making their way down. He crossed the distance within moments, his great momentum stopping with a sickening crunch as he drove his shield into the weak body of one of the orcs. It died gasping, its ribs and chest crushed by the violence of the Noldor. Estarfin roared wordlessly as he continued to push into the orcs, not giving them time or space to fight back as he cut them down with his spear. The stairs were not wide enough for them to get past his broad shield, and so they could do nothing but curse him before dying. He pushed them back with his shield, overpowering them easily. He lashed out with his spear, thrusting it and slashing it into the dwindling group of orcs. He used the steel plate running along the front of his boots to snap ankles and knees, relying upon his fury to overwhelm the twisted creatures before him. After half of the orcs had fallen, the courage of the remaining few broke, and they turned to flee. Those closest were cut down with no mercy, the stairs that they stood upon running with filthy blood. The bloody Elf charged up the stairs after the fleeing orcs, blind to all else about him. They had reached the great set of doors, and were hammering upon them, shouting in their own foul language at whatever guarded the door to open them. The doors opened a crack, letting the hideous green light flow out upon the dark stone steps. As Estarfin reached the doors, the last of the orcs was slipping through the gap. Without slowing, Estarfin raised his shield and slammed into the back of the orc, crushing the life out of him, and forcing the door wide enough for him to stumble through. He had a moment to realise that he was within the tower before all the breath was knocked from him as his shield was slammed into his side and he was thrown through the air to crash upon the ground.
 
Belegos did not hesitate, but grabbed the others and pushed them up the stairs after Estarfin, knowing that he would clear the way for them to get into the tower. He waited for Elloen, Danel and Parnard to pass him before turning to face the orcs advancing across the courtyard. He drew his sword, no longer caring about the glint of light on steel giving away their position. He took a few steps backwards, climbing the stairs. As the first orc reached him, he lifted his front foot to avoid the spear thrust, letting the point break upon the hard stone steps. Sweeping his sword in an almost lazy arc, the orc fell away, a fatally-deep cut upon its ugly face. Belegos took another step back, using the sword to parry the dark wooden club of the next orc foolish enough to face him. He took a step forward, slamming his elbow hard into the nose of the orc, before slashing out with his sword as it fell backwards. It knocked over the next orc trying to climb the stairs after Belegos. He took advantage of the time, and climbed a few more stairs. Two orcs charged at him, for the stairs were narrow, and no more than two at a time could pass.  Belegos cut them both down with little difficulty. They were weak, hateful things. Armed with crude iron weapons, armoured in stinking leather hides, they were no match for the Warden of the Golden Gate. There was a terrible light in his eyes, and the orcs swarming around the base of the stairs seemed fearful of approaching him. A cry of alarm sounded further up the stairs, and Belegos turned to see Elloen passing through the doors. He began to run up the stairs as the first darts and arrows of the orcs began to fall onto the stone steps behind him.
 
The terrible blow from the troll would have killed Estarfin if his shield had not been raised. Danel thought for a moment that it had killed him as his body flew through the air and hit the stone floor. The thought vanished from her mind though as the troll turned its small, cruel eyes upon her instead. It raised an iron-bound wooden club the size of a young tree, and with a terrible roar it swung it towards the doorway as Parnard was running through it. Danel grabbed Parnard and pulled him to the floor as the club whistled over them. They scrambled to their feet and ran one to the left, one to the right of the troll. The troll turned and bellowed at Parnard as Elloen emerged from the stairs through the doorway. As the troll advanced on Parnard, Danel and Elloen moved as one, raising their shining swords and hacking at the unprotected legs of the troll. The skin was as hard as iron, and even Sarphir only managed to cut partway into the muscle of the beast. Stumbling, the troll turned on Danel and Elloen with a roar of pain and anger. Seeing his chance, Parnard sprang forwards, aiming a fearsome blow at the legs of the troll. The sword rebounded from the tough skin, the troll ignoring him and raising the great club to crush the others. First one, then another, and then another white-feather arrow flew into the thick neck of the troll as Belegos rushed through the door. With a howl of pain, the troll reached up to its neck, trying to pull the arrows out. Belegos, Elloen, Parnard and Danel charged it, swords raised. In a few moments it was over, the troll falling to the floor with a loud crash, covering in terrible wounds. As they stood to catch their breath, Parnard called out.
"The door! We must close the door!" and with that, he ran to the great stone door and tried to push it closed. "Help me, it is too heavy!" he called to the others.
They all ran to his aid, adding their strength to his. The door began to grind shut slowly, as the shouts and cries of the orcs outside grew louder and nearer. With a dull crash, the door closed, and they moved the wooden bar into place, sealing the orcs outside, and themselves inside. They turned to see Estarfin slowly climbing to his feet, looking at the dead troll. They were within the tower, now all that was needed was to find the sword.